#oruvun

The feel-good stuff.

          “Mmmph.. Fuck.” Tongue running over the edge of his lips as he tried to stop the escaping jam from his recently devoured cookie, he had managed to make an even bigger mess on himself. Shortbread crumbs all over his cheeks, and what bit of jam he couldn’t catch had reached the corner of his mouth.

     Reva’s thumb slid across his face, wiping away all the crumbs. Jam on his fingertip, he licked it away before pressing a quick peck to his beloved’s lips.

The feel-good stuff.

     Shivering as he stood away from the fire his companions had made, Ambrós wrapped his arms tightly around himself. It wasn’t until Reva came beside him, setting his robes over his shoulders, hands running along his spine.

          “Take my robe, fenorain.”          “I’m fine-”          “Ambrós. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

     Even though he objected, Ambrós nestled himself into the warm fabric. He wouldn’t dare venture closer to the flames near them, instead staying close to Reva before they retired to their tent for the evening. Cassandra stole a glance to the both of them, confusion and curiosity in her features. She watched as they stood together, Reva keeping his arms tight around Ambrós, seeming to breathe warmth onto him.

What do I really think?

     You’ve held my hand our entire lives. You’ve protected me from so much. You haven’t left my side for even a day since that hole in the sky came out.

     Why are you still here? I’m not worth any of that. You could have someone so much better, who isn’t broken or scarred. Who can appreciate and love you more. You don’t need me. You shouldn’t have done any of the things for me that you have. Do you just stay around because you feel bad for me? You don’t want me to be alone?

     Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You deserve someone better.

Also a bottle of Dalish whiskey. Because why not.

     Lips upon his own, Ambrós couldn't help but smile wide. Arms snaking around the taller elf, fingers gripping against his shirt as he saw the bottle of whiskey clasped in his hand.

          "Special occasion, huh?" A teasing smile as he stood on his toes to reach the other's mouth and place another kiss there. Truly, he was happy to spend time with Reva on his nameday, just the two of them and nobody else to interrupt them. It was so rare they were able to sneak away from it all, even to celebrate something as small as this.

morgan never remembers memes 2kforever

     What could only be described as a whining growl escaped the smaller elf as Reva adjusted his tunic and belts for him. Making everything straight, unwrinkled, unblemished, so proper. It was exhausting just to think about everything else they were going to have to do all night. It wasn't long after his clothes were straightened out that Reva had started on his hair. Intricate, neat braids. Thin and thick, weaving into each other to create illusions of crimson rivers flowing and pouring together into an open basin.

         "Why do I have t'be th'one doin' this tonight?"          "Because, fenorain, you never do this. It's time you started to make an impression, and make sure it's good."          "I was fine just lettin' you do all'a this, y'know."          "Amb, c'mon. It's not gonna be that bad."

     Still weaving hair between his fingers, Reva could feel the exasperation rolling off of his beloved. It would be a lie to say he didn't find a bit of enjoyment out of his distaste and unhappiness with having to host for the evening. Of course, Reva wasn't going to just leave him by himself in the throes of nobility and quite possibly make an ass of himself, and the inquisition.

         "I'm going to be right there the whole time. But this will be about you and your mark you leave on these people."          "I save their lives, ain't that enough?"          "No."

     A groan as the taller had finished with his hair. Ambrós wanted the night to be over before it even began.

#35. My muse dies in your muse’s arms.

     Corypheus was gone. Rubble around them, Reva had dug Ambrós out and held to him as if he would disappear. The adrenaline keeping them both upright had diminished, the both of them waiting for their companions to join. Fingers gently traced over Amb's features, watching worriedly as he wheezed for air. Thumb rolls over his cheek, wiping the blood pouring out of a gash away. The cut appeared worse than what it was, they were both sure, but it was something to watch regardless.

          "Inquisitors, are you alright?!" Cassandra called out from the remains of the stairs, cautiously poking her head around the broken pillars.

         "Bring a healer, I can't move him."          "Right away."

     Alone again, Reva looked down at his beloved, trembling in his arms.

         "How are you holding up?"          "I-I'm okay.. Sore, b-but okay."          "We're going to heal you before we move. We're gonna be back at Skyhold in no time."          "Can you run a bath f-for when we're back?"          "Of course."

     Palm pressing to his cheek, he attempted to ease the blood draining from his face. Ambrós' eyes were tired, exhausted. The verge of sleep and rest in his bones, he wanted nothing more than to wake up in their bed and forget this happened. Finger grip meekly at Reva's wrist, nails curling at his sleeve.

         "Do you want to try and sit up?"          "I.. I can't. It hurts."          "Don't move around, help is coming."

     Heaviness in the injured Lavellan’s chest, he felt his lungs ache and strain for breath. But there wasn't a panic. It was slow. The healers were on their way, they would help him. His face stung as Reva carefully took his palm off his cheek to see the damage, if his weakened spell did anything to assist it.

         "You got cut something fierce, fenorain."          "Don't make me laugh, it hurts more."

     Reva offered a weak smile, eyes glancing towards the collapsed pillars where help would soon arrive.

         "I want to sleep."          "Soon."

     Nervousness set in. He could try and sit him up, keep him awake, but cause more pain.

         "Fenorain, I'm going to try and get you up. Just sitting."          "N-no, I-"          "Ambrós, you can't sleep right now."          "It.. It hurts too much, Reva. Please."

     Reva mulled over the options, his heart pounding in fear against his ribs.

         "Once the healers arrive, we're going to sit up. Okay?"          "O-okay."

     Amb's breaths became more strained, eyes finding it harder and harder to stay open as he tried to breathe deeply. Reva kept a warm hand pressed to his face, thumb tracing his cheek once again. Going over the lines of his vallaslin, he followed them along his nose, feather light touch bringing a faint sense of calm to the both of them.

         "Reva.          "Mmm?"          "C-can you tell me about Alidda?"          "How about a new story?"          "Ab-about what?"          "Two elves. Against all odds, they saved everyone. They closed a hole in the sky, and brought peace back to the world."          "Tell me all of it."

         "Our two heroes weren't anything special.. A couple of guys from a Dalish clan, trying to do a task their Keeper assigned them."

     A smile had crawled onto Amb's lips, fingers meekly attempting to entwine in Reva's. Obliging, the older Lavellan set his lips in the center of his forehead.

         "They survived the unthinkable. A magister trying to separate them through time and space, a mire filled to the brim with undead and Avvar warriors, and even Orlesian politics."          "Terrifying."          "They helped a lot of people, too. Villages ravaged by undead, another Dalish clan down on it's luck. Templars with no place to go, and even chantry sisters who wanted to play their part. They helped anyone they could, even down to th smallest child. Their help didn't go unnoticed, everyone around them providing support and allies."

     Ambrós felt his body get heavy, chest slowing down from frantic attempts at breath to soft and slow inhales. Reva continued weaving their story, his voice becoming a quiet murmur and buzz to his ears.

     Words caught in his throat, trying to escape between his teeth, only to be stuck at the tip of his tongue.

         'I'm going to shut my eyes for just a minute... Wake me up if I doze..'

     Even his thoughts were quiet. No soft whispers of assurance from his deity. He was free from the ever tightening hold Dirthamen had over him.

          "Fenorain, the healers are coming.. just a little longer."          "Mmm."

     The quietest hum, he figured he could shut his eyes as Reva continued. It didn’t hurt. He wasn't suffocating.

                                                                 He was free.

          "...And they.. They returned to Skyhold..." Blue eyes watched as his beloved’s chest heaved and then moved no longer. The weak grip on his fingers let go. Every emotion he thought he cut off from himself had come back. Tears welled up, vision blurred, an unrecognizable wail leaving his lips. Cassandra returned, too little too late.

     Reva held tightly to his deceased love, pressing Amb's head into the crook of his neck, sobbing. This whole world was against him.

          “No- it.. It’s not a demon. It’s..” The word was caught as he debated the truth. Reva, though he wasn’t going to attack him, very much so had the means to.

‘Tell him, child. It’ll sate his needs.’'What if he doesn’t believe me?’'He will.’'You won’t hurt him, will you?’'Reva will be safe.’

    A quiet breath, Reva expectantly waiting for an answer.

         “There’s a god inside me.”          “What?”          “…D…Dirthamen. I’m a vessel for him. He saved my life, and now I’m saving his.”          “Ambrós that’s not possible, the Creators-”          “Reva, they’re trapped. He told me everything about them. They haven’t abandoned us, they’re unable to get to us.”

    It was obvious this answer wasn’t enough for him. Brows knitting togther in thought, Reva looked him over carefully.

         “How long?”          “A… Um.. Shortly after I was burned. About four years now.”          “How did it happen?”          “When we were outside Wildervale, it was.. I was going to end my life, Reva. He called to me. He.. He led me to a lake; it was so clean and clear, unlike any I’ve ever seen. I went in the water and he healed me. He fixed me.”

    Reva’s expression became unreadable. It wasn’t impossible, considering all that was soon to transpire in the Arbor Wilds, whatever they may find. It still seemed off to him.

         “How?”          “I.. I don’t know, it was magic. He stopped me from aching. Then he told me to drink the water, so I did. A piece of him lives in me now. He’s…. He’s good, Reva. I promise.”          “What else has he told you?”          “I’ve seen what Arlathan was in my dreams, he’s shown me so much of the old days when he was free. He loved the People, Reva. Just as he loves me.”

    Still skeptical, he let it drop. Research was going to be had the first chance he could get his hands on it.

    Eyes glow, Ambrós frozen in his tracks. Light escaping his mouth, Reva made to move, only to be stopped before he could even lift a finger.

          "̵I̧ am͝ ǹo͜ ͜d̀emo͟n.̸ ̸I ̕am wh͜a̷t ̸t́h͏ȩ ͞d̕èm̵on͠s̵ f̡e҉ar. ̴Spéa҉k͡ n̸o ͜m͢o͘re͟ o̴f̷ t̵h͝is̢ o҉r̛ ͘h͘e͜ ͏w̛i͠l͟l p̡e͢r͘is͜h͜."̛

    The voice left Amb, but it wasn’t his. It was nothing like his. It was like thousands of voices spoke at once, a chorus of threats made against him.

    All he could muster was a nod.

     Light gone, Ambrós nearly collapsed, Reva catching him before it was too late.

#38. being physically/emotionally vulnerable

        “Reva.”         “Mmm?”         “…Help.”

     It was like a whisper from across the room, Ambrós trying to will himself to stand up and get his salves, only to fall back into bed. His chest ached, wanting to be free of his relentless bandaging. Lungs throb against cracked ribs and he felt like everything was constricting around him. Reva pulled himself away from his work, gathering what Amb needed before they could start.

        “Here, sit back down.”         “I.. I want to stand.”         “After.”         “Can we do this outside?”         “It’s too cold for you right now, Ambrós.”

    A resigned sigh, he let Reva unbutton his shirt and toss it aside, a clean one waiting for him.

    Distress built in the smaller Lavellan as Reva slowly unraveled his bandaging. He was so weak he couldn’t even do this himself. Watching the roll of old fabric come undone into a pile beside him, his breaths escaped in uneven shudders. He was pathetic.

    Palm pressing against his cheek, Reva made him look up as he gently rolled his thumb under his eyes.

        “You aren’t a burden, Ambrós.” It was like he read his beloved’s mind. “You’re sick. You’ll get better, I promise.”

    He couldn’t muster the questions, instead just allowing Reva to resume caring for him. A warm cloth rolling over his arms, washing away sweat that built up with his fever from the previous night. Dipping it back into the bucket by his feet, Reva rinsed and gently slid the soaked fabric over his face. Tears were pulled away, the warm water bringing small comfort as it gently kneaded against his cheeks. Cold air set in, leaving Ambrós a little more refreshed than he had been.

        “Better?”         “A little bit.”

    Another dip in the bucket, cloth carefully going in circles on his chest, around his ribs. Bruising remained from wounds still unhealed, Reva gentle and doing his best to not aggravate it. A wince as he touched upon bruises, nothing too extreme, Ambrós assured him he was fine.

    Reva set his lips upon his beloved’s forehead, finished with his chest for the time being.

        “Can you lay on your stomach yet?”         “Kind of.”         “Here, let me help.”

    Gathering pillows to keep him propped up, Reva remained at Amb’s side, getting him in a mostly comfortable position. He didn’t ignore how he trembled when trying to move, the way his arms shook when trying to support himself, how strained his breaths came no matter how he tried to hide it. It broke his heart, being unable to help him.

    This was why he worked. Dorian, even Vivienne, the three of them trying to help Ambrós as best they could. Solas provided nothing, unable to even keep the anchor in check anymore.

        “I’ll make you some tea after this. Maybe we can go to the garden after if you’re feeling it.”         “I’d like that.”

    He always promised it, but had yet to deliver. From the moment Ambrós would stand, he’d be unable to go further. The sickness in him was too great. Reva wanted nothing more than for him to get better. The reality, however, was the opposite. Every day, he worsened. Weaker, more lethargic, exhausted.

    He feared for the day he wouldn’t wake.

    Palm kneading against his spine, gently washing away stress and knots of fatigue, Reva set his own temporary worry at ease. For a moment, they could pretend everything was back to normal. Relatively normal, at least. Palms now slick, salves being worked against his beloved’s marred back, he watched Amb’s fingers curl against the pillows.

        “Are you alright?”         “You really do think I’m a burden.”

    Words spoken at the same time, Reva bit his lip when he processed what Ambrós said. Hands still working salve between his shoulder blades, he felt the smaller elf begin to shudder, forcing back sobs that he knew his chest couldn’t handle right now.

        “Ambrós..”         “No! I want.. I want the truth! You think I’m a burden. You.. You hate doing stuff for me and..And..”

    It was here Reva stopped, instead helping Ambrós sit up, pulling him into his lap to hold him close. Though he had tried to curb his tears, they fell, breaths uneven and coming out in wheezes as he choked out a pain sob.

        “Fenorain, you aren’t a burden. You’re very sick right now, is all; taking care of you isn’t something I dread. It isn’t your fault this happened, and we’re going to make it through this.”         “But..I jus-I jus..I can’t..”         “Shh..”

    Laying Amb’s ear against his chest, fingers comb through his hair, an attempt to calm his hysterics. It worked, albeit only a small amount. Arm coiled around his shoulders and keeping his head cradled to his heart, Reva pressed kisses to the top of his head. Heaviness weighed in him, beloved feeling so pained at being unable to do anything for himself. He felt useless, pathetic.

        “I know you feel this way, but… Fenorain, you aren’t useless. You’re sick. We’re working on a way to make you better. You won’t be this way forever. This isn’t you, and nobody thinks less of you for being unwell.”

    Petting his hair and running his thumb under his beloved’s eyes, Reva rested his chin to the top of his head. His crying had subsided, chest aching with every breath.

         "Ambrós..“ Nuzzling against his cheek, Reva whispered quietly. Palm sliding softly against his spine, Ambrós leaning to his touch, fighting against his uneven breaths.